Oh Worry, Worry

By: Kyle Elden

Years ago I was listening to a meditation on audio and this quote, of which there was no identified author I can remember, was read “Worrying is your way of praying for what you don’t want.” This struck me and helped me shift (or at least attempt to) from tending to ruminate over the fearful, the stressful, and the negative. Naturally tending toward worrying and anxiety I now use this quote as a reminder within my own spiritual practice and have invited my yoga students in class as well to contemplate how you can transform that oftentimes gripping and consuming worry into a prayer or an intention for what it is you do want. Further, how can you take that worry and utilize it as helpful information regarding a change or a shift you need to make in your life? This may be related to an external factor – a relationship, responsibility, or obligation or it may be an internal factor – such as thoughts, beliefs, and perceptions about yourself, others, situations and the world around you that just aren’t serving you in finding wholeness, happiness, joy, and grace in your life. So, take the opportunity as worries arise to recognize that you don’t want to pray for something you don’t want, for that would be silly. Instead, be a creator in your life and shift your consciousness to a prayer or intention for what you do want and gather the courage to make the changes and modifications necessary in your life, relationships, and internal landscape to bring about more harmony and guide you onward to your best self.

Ode on Intimations of Immortality

By: William Wordsworth

"Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting;
The Soul that rises with us, our life's Star,
Hath had elsewhere its setting,
And cometh from afar;
Not in entire forgetfulness,
And not in entire nakedness,
But trailing clouds of glory do we come
From God, who is our home."


..............................................

I've always found deep solace when reading this
Wordsworth piece. How often it is we forget who
we are and where we come from. How often it is
we dwell in the negative, the fearful, the things
we have no control over. How often we ruminate over
mistakes and failures, imperfections and inadequacies.
But alas, when we take a moment to pause and recognize
what Mr. Wordsworth describes as our true "home" suddenly,
suffering begins to subside and peace begins to take hold.

I remember going to a little hermitage cabin for a silence
retreat and a little placard was sweetly placed on the desk.
It simply stated: Child of God, you are Welcome Here.....
At this time in my life, I had strayed away from knowing,
remembering, and recognizing "home" -- I had been existing
in struggle, facing adversity -- and I cannot tell you
the welcome into loving arms experience I had at that moment.
I dropped my suitcase, began to weep, and peace filled me.
I realized my true "home" and began to laugh at myself
because it was here, ever-present and available to me
all along, I just didn't notice. I now believe that
the only way we separate ourselves from this reality
is though our own lack of awareness and tendency
toward suffering. And the antidote is as simple and
as difficult as remembering.....

Untitled

By: Khalil Gibran

Your living is determined not so much by what life brings to you as by the attitude you bring to life; not so much by what happens to you as by the way your mind looks at what happens.

One Journey

By: John O'Donohue

You only get one chance. You have one journey through life; you cannot repeat even one moment or retrace one footstep. It seems that we are meant to inhabit and live everything that comes toward us.

POETRY

By: Pablo Neruda

And it was at that age...Poetry arrived
in search of me. I don't know, I don't know where
it came from, from winter or a river.
I don't know how or when,
no, they were not voices, they were not
words, nor silence,
but from a street I was summoned,
from the branches of night,
abruptly from the others,
among violent fires
or returning alone,
there I was without a face
and it touched me.

I did not know what to say, my mouth
had no way
with names
my eyes were blind,
and something started in my soul,
fever or forgotten wings,
and I made my own way,
deciphering
that fire
and I wrote the first faint line,
faint, without substance, pure
nonsense,
pure wisdom
of someone who knows nothing,
and suddenly I saw
the heavens
unfastened
and open,
planets,
palpitating plantations,
shadow perforated,
riddled
with arrows, fire and flowers,
the winding night, the universe.

And I, infinitesimal being,
drunk with the great starry
void,
likeness, image of
mystery,
I felt myself a pure part
of the abyss,
I wheeled with the stars,
my heart broke loose on the wind.